I nearly dialed 911 on the tattooed teenager holding a screaming baby inside an empty 1 AM laundromat. Then his bag tore open, and my stomach sank with utter shame.

told me this young man was dangerous.

Had he taken this baby? Was he fleeing the police?

The laundromat stood deserted except for us. The bright fluorescent lights hummed above, heightening the baby’s sharp, nonstop cries.

“Shut up, please, just please stop crying,” the boy muttered, his voice cracking violently. He sounded entirely unhinged. He aggressively continue reading …